Out of Time
by wolfeschatten
Summary: With no memory of who or where he comes from, Percy ventures through a land of angered gods and vengeful myths. In Ancient Greece, demigods with no identity wander through Athens and fight for existence in the chaotic world. Revolutions, usurpation, murder, will the demigods remember who they are and find a way home to their proper time?
1. The Fisher King

The moon shone brightly off of the water. It was calm, with only the soft, twinkling sound of the oars flowing through the water. The god stars pierced the darkness, the mighty huntress moon reflecting out if the deep, black crystal water. Our boat swiftly flew across the surface, making good time for the shore. I stood on the bow of the trireme, bathing in the soft breeze of the night.

"Alexandra, what are you doing up here?" Callisti whispered as she joined me, beholding the devout image over the bow. Her long, dark brown hair tied behind her, her pale servant's dress flowing in the unhindered wind. "You'll catch your death up here."

"The cold doesn't bother me."

Callisti played with one of my free locks of hair and watched the moon. "Artemis must wish us home safely."

I didn't answer. I just listened to the waves lapping against the hull, searching the water for any divergence in the unblemished surface. Forlornly, the seamless picture was shattered by a figure bobbing along in the waves. At first thought, I believed it was a weed or rock, maybe a broken splinter of wood, but Callisti noticed its anomalous shape as well.

"What's that?" she asked.

The trireme was approaching it quickly. The figure submerged fleetingly, returning to the surface seconds later. I stretched over the bow for a closer look. The silhouette was oblong, boughs floating to the side, a mass of tresses pulsing along with the rhythmic waves.

"Someone's in the water," I said, stunned. "Fetch Kleitos."

Callisti bobbed her head and ran down the trireme, shouting below deck. Rowers watched as she hustled by, nevertheless, they kept their rhythm perfectly. The man, now discernible as a young man, was meters from the ship. He seemed to be unconscious, or at least too weak to move.

Callisti's cries were met with speed. Sailors and slaves rushed to the starboard side with ropes and hooks in order to catch the castaway.

A slave, whose name was Eucleides, dove into the water, swimming over to the man and wrapping his arms around him. The slave tugged on the rope and was slowly hulled back to the ship. A hundred hands reached for the pair, grappling with the limp figure until they could carefully lower the young man to the deck.

"Get back to work!" Kleitos ordered, smacking a nearby rower. "Give the boy room."

It was true, I saw. The man was younger than I had thought. He looked to be around my age, sixteen or seventeen. I knelt beside him and brushed his black hair from his eyes. His hand flew to my wrist, his eyes snapping open. They were a vibrant green, like the sea during its cycle.

"Sh," I yanked my wrist from his enervated grip. "What's your name?"

His eyes flailed around him like he couldn't focus on one point. Finally, they settled on me and the other faces overlooking him. He had to swallow a few times before he could answer.

"Percy—Percy Jackson," he finally croaked. He let his head loll to the deck, coughing wetly. He turned to his side and heaved long, racketing breaths. His clothes, sodding wet and torn, were foreign, like his accent. A vibrant orange with strange carvings on the front, covered his torso while a separate, longer cloth wrapped around his entire legs. Maybe some form of monk clothing from a foreign land, I inferred.

"Where am I?" he asked once he had regained his breath.

"Off the coast of Piraeus. We should reach the port by midday." Kleitos answered gruffly, his way of speaking softly. The old ship master was tough but compassionate once one took the time to know him.

Confusion played across Percy's features, but he hid them as soon as they flickered by.

"What happened, son?"

"Don't know," Percy hesitated. He coughed again so I asked Callisti to fetch an ampulla. She returned quickly, the two handled flask unscrewed. I took it and placed it against Percy's lips, letting the dark liquid to flow down his parched throat. "Thanks," he murmured.

"Come on, boy. The healer is below. Callisti, take him down stairs and find a bunk for him to rest after he is tended to." But even as Kleitos spoke, Percy's eyes rolled back into his skull, causing the old master-in-arms to heft the boy onto his shoulders and carry him down himself.

I followed closely behind. Something about the boy felt familiar, a flicker of sentience that I could not place.

The healer inspected the young exile, rubbing oils and ointments on the skin, burning sage and rosemary, and chanting. I fell asleep to the healer's musical voice calling to the gods of healing and life.

* * *

The crew was wide awake and hustling when I joined them on the main deck. The Νίκη, being one of the largest ships in the fleet, had three decks: the bottom was the sleeping quarters, the second for the majority of the oars, and the top for the captain's deck and a few navigation oars.

Callisti was standing in the shade of the captain's deck, a small hut with room for war preparations or councils. She waited behind the table covered with fruits and drinks, her hands crossed in front of her, her head respectively bowed. A man with greying, traditional black hair and a full beard held his hands behind his back as his training had taught him. A dagger clipped at his belt, his armor perfectly aligned, Kleitos looked like the hand of the king. Sitting with a plate full of food, the boy with a mass of black hair picked at his food. He was dressed in a white tunic and sandals, an improvement from his previous, strange attire.

"I am glad to see you're alive, Percy Jackson." I said as I sat down opposite from him. He smiled shyly and nodded.

"Me too." He paused and glanced at me indirectly, "You know my name?"

"Yes. You incoherently whispered it when we enquired to your title; although, I'm not completely sure you understood what we were asking of you. You seemed puzzled by our language."

Percy, seemingly at a loss for words, grinned sheepishly and muttered, "I was just tired."

I bobbed my head in acknowledgment. "I am Alexandra."

"I was told you're the one to thank for saving me," Percy said while fidgeting with his water vessel.

"Well, I had need of a new slave, and you are pleasant to look at. It was an obvious decision to spare your life," I said with all seriousness. Percy's face fell as he gaped at me, shifting farther away from Kleitos and the guards. I held a straight face for a few seconds then laughed. "Relax, Percy. I am merely joking."

He laughed but nervously and cautiously, like we were to clap irons on him that second. _Too early for jokes apparently_. I searched for a change of subject, choosing something that seemed simple, "Tell me, Percy, where are you from?"

"I don't remember," he replied bleakly. His face clouding with misery and a sense of deep loss.

"He claims he remembers nothing save for his name," Kleitos grumbled disbelievingly.

"And my Mom. And Paul. And—my—Dad." Percy rubbed his head harshly and groaned. "It's like at the tip of my tongue. Something trying to break through but isn't strong enough."

"Who's Paul?"

"Blofis. He married my mom." The answer came naturally enough, but the answers vanished as soon as they came. Percy let out a frustrated growl and knocked his plate away.

Kleitos simply rolled his eyes and motioned for me to join him off of the captain's deck. I sighed but rose from my place and joined him, knowing full well how he felt about our new guest. Kleitos kept walking to the prow and breathed in the salty air before stating his mind:

"I don't trust 'im."

"I see that. Do you have a reason or just had an epiphany of his malevolence?"

The commander settled a scathing frown on me before continuing, "He has no memory. He appears in the middle of the wine-dark sea at midnight? That is no coincidence." He clenched his hands on the railing and stared at the passing coast.

"I believe the gods sent him."

Kleitos turned back to me, "Is that your belief or..."

"Intuition. He seems normal enough and poses no threat. He could barely speak last night let alone slay us in our sleep. Do not scorn Poseidon by abandoning someone lost at sea."

Kleitos's eyes flashed with anger, but it subsided as soon as it came. He respected the gods more than most of our time, the gods slowly falling out of favor with the suffering people. Mostly only those of the old century still feared and worshipped the harrowing gods.

"Prepare for landing, my Lady." He stalked away and barked orders to his captain, who in turn ordered the rowers to change direction and pace. An eerie drum played over the echoing sea, bang-bang—bang. It had an off-beat so that they angled the trireme into the upcoming port. A cliff-side city opened into the bay, white buildings lined the coast. Fishing boats and their fisherman watched wide-eyed at our incoming warship.

Wooden docks flooded with merchants and vendors trying to sell their belongings and tickets, pack mules and donkeys brayed along with the shouting men. The Νίκη pulled into the harbor and was tied off by various slaves. Almost immediately, our belongings and soldiers and shipments were taken off board. Callisti smiled excitedly at the thought of returning home. She gave me an enthusiastic tug towards the docks and draped a thin silver cloth over my shoulders, pulling it over my head, covering my dress and wealth. Percy wandered over, curiously watching the on goings of the market. I gave him a reassuring smile and offered my arm.

"Come then, Percy. We have a party at the other end of the city."

"You want me to come with you?"

"I don't see why not. We did save your life. Pity to have it stolen by a robber in the alleys," I smirked.

Percy chuckled and accepted my offer, walking beside me and down the creaking ramp leaning on the ship.

As glorious as the city appeared from far out, closer it was piteously disheartening; beggars lined the streets, calling out for relief. Men and children shoved past every citizen without a second glance. Percy watched the uncaring with disgust, but the ghost of a smile lit up his face as he saw two boys running through the crowd. Lighter brown hair and similar looks, they worked well together, bumping past multiple rich, flamboyant merchants and pausing a few feet away. They emptied their tunics full of bracelets, necklaces, and drachmas and smiled over the successful run.

"They better not get caught," I said quietly.

"What? What do you mean?" He grinned, acting obliviously.

"If they are caught, they'll lose a hand each."

Percy started. "A hand? Each? Isn't that a little extreme?"

I motioned towards the beggars. "The people believe the gods are too cruel. They challenge the laws, the king." I spoke bitterly, the cruel punishments that do not fit the crime.

He looked back at the brothers, who were making another run towards the farther end of the dock. "They look familiar," he mumbled so quietly I barely registered that he had said.

I hurried away from the scene and through the crowds, eager to return home from the long voyage.

Callisti and Percy were right behind me when we found the welcoming party. An entourage of fifty royal guards and advisors with horses and tents ready for the slow journey back to the capital. They scrutinized the newcomer but, after a quick word from Kleitos, allowed Percy to pass unhindered.

"Gods, it's like they're protecting royalty," he muttered.

I contemplated him for a moment but shook my head. He would learn soon enough.

Instead, I adoringly greeted my horse, which was saddled and ready. Corax, a black stallion whinnied in greeting and nudged my shoulder. I instructed Callisti to find a horse for Percy, who was jumping back and forth to avoid being trampled by the camp guards. He seemed in higher spirits than earlier, especially when they brought him his horse, a speckled brown black mare. He cupped its muzzle and leaned his forehead to its head, whispering affectionately to it. He mounted without a saddle and a hand always in connection with the mare's neck.

"Ready?" He asked brightly.

* * *

The journey was long and arduous, the sentries and soldiers carefully redirecting any travelers we happened to come across. For the most part, the apathetic militaries stayed silent, occasionally sharing inside jokes and words with each other. Callisti had wondered off to speak with her fellow servants, leaving me to speak with Percy alone.

He spent much of the ride in his own mind, frequently bent over to pet his horse's neck. But, about halfway through the midday meal, he began asking questions about back home.

"So, I've noticed—uh—" he stuttered.

I gave him an encouraging smile but hoped he wasn't about to ask what I thought.

"The gods."

I let go of my breath and frowned slightly. I hadn't expected him to ask of them so I nodded for him to continue.

"People seem a little—hesitant to call on them. I thought that back then the gods ruled every aspect of life?"

"They did. But times have become…stressed. People suffer and fall from grace much more often than before. The citizens blame the gods, and the kings have become more powerful. They believe themselves to be close to gods. After all, the gods are closely resembled to ourselves, are they not?"

Percy nodded half-heartedly, stabbing the earth with his sleek cylinder. His emerald eyes were so full of pain and anguish as he tried to remember his past. Even relaxed at the afternoon meal and warming in the archer sun, he probably was still as alert as a soldier at the cusp of a battle. For one so young, he looked as strong a warrior as Kleitos.

The old battle-master came before me, nodding to the sky, "We are to head out as soon as we break camp. We should arrive by night fall."

With one sidelong glance at Percy, Kleitos marched away to deal with the upending of camp.

"Is he always that happy?" Percy asked after we had continued on our journey to the capitol.

"Who? Kleitos? Oh, he is not so bad once you get to know him. He is really a lovable pup on the inside."

Percy snorted, smothering his laughter when Kleitos straightened in his saddle.

"In fact," I continued, fully aware of frustration rolling off of the commander, "he used to tell me the same joke every day when I was younger. Do you wish to hear it? Wishing to teach his donkey not to eat, a scholar did not offer him any food. When the donkey died of hunger, he said 'I've had a great loss. Just when he had learned not to eat, he died.'"

Percy made a strangled sound, somewhere between a laugh and an incredulous snort. I had to laugh, if not at the mirthless joke but at the green-eyed youth's expression. A few of the surrounding officers chuckled silently, but quickly reverted to their professional, expressionless poses when Kleitos's quiet voice made its way to where we were:

"I only told you that story, so that you would cease asking me of the wars."

He nudged his horse into a light canter, setting a new pace for the retinue.

* * *

By nightfall we reached Athens. The city was almost barren from life, most unlike Piraeus. Only a few soldiers wandered from lit brazier to brazier and greeted our party with a salute.

Percy was in awe at the architecture. Turning his head back and forth to see every building, he kept muttering something about the buttresses and archways and columns, and saying, "Annabeth was right."

But he was even more confused when we didn't stop at an inn or any other mansions but went straight to the palace. We climbed the everlasting stairs and reached the grandiose royal home. Columns and arches lined the white marble building, statues and guards surrounded the acropolis. Little temples stood at the corners of the platform, a more incongruous temple perched along the cliff. A bell rang from one of the high turrets, signaling our arrival as a man in splendid clothes walked hurriedly towards our group. Embroidered tunics and capes and golden sandals, the man made an effort to appear sober, but he was off-balanced and awkwardly smiling. He stuck his hand out to Kleitos, who kissed one of the man's many rings. It was not looked upon lightly, the kissing or asking to bow to a king. People were only expected to bow to a god, but King Achas believed himself to be a god, along with his wife Kassandra.

"Kleitos, good to see you, man! I warned you of eating those Loti Berries, but you've gone and ate them anyways!" The king laughed, jovially poking his general in the stomach.

"My king," Kleitos said respectfully.

"Maybe some training will help put you back in shape," Achas laughed, slapping the shoulders of Kleitos then moving on to greet me. I looked him straight in the eyes and gave no respectful bow. "Alexandra, the moon cannot attest to your beauty, my daughter."

"Daughter?!" Percy exclaimed, his mouth gaped with surprise. Achas turned to Percy as if just noticing him like the inept king he is. Percy acknowledged the attention and shut his mouth.

"Who is this?"

"This, Basileus Achas, is Percy Jackson. He was a castaway off the coast of Piraeus." I said delicately. I knew how to manipulate the king into my view points in certain areas. "I believed the gods wished him to be saved by our voyage."

The king held Percy in his gaze for a moment then gave a full-hearted smile. "Well then, Percy, you are welcome to stay in my humble palace. I insist." My father clapped his hands, and servants rushed to his sides. "Take Percy to the west wing. You all must be hungry from your long journey! A feast!" he called. The servants rushed away, towing Percy behind them to his new room. He glanced back at me, but I encouraged him to go, shooing him with my hands. But as soon as he was gone, I briskly turned on my heels and walked straight to the corner of the acropolis.

"Alexandra, where are you going?"

I didn't turn around, but called back, "To consort with the gods."

My temple was as it was before I left. The brazier was lit as it always was, and the marble was clean from any dust and blemish. The twelve statues remained still on their precipices, regal and imperial. Before Zeus the Storm-Gatherer was a chalice filled with a crimson liquid.

I moved through memory, dipping my fingers into the wine and casting the droplets onto the base of the white marble. I whispered and closed my eyes and waited until a cool breeze ruffled my hair and travel-weary dress.

"It has been a long time, Alexandra."

**I re-did this chapter, slowly reworking all of my fanfics...**

**COMMENT!**


	2. Council of the Gods

After I was led away from the welcoming party, a half a dozen servants took me to my "room." Calling it a room was an understatement. The walls were twenty feet tall, covered in tapestries and carvings of the gods and kings. The main room was open aired and full of beautifully carved furniture. A balcony breached off of it and connected with a second room, the bedroom. The bed didn't look extremely comfortable but was stylish: a flat marble surface with cushions and blankets and netting surrounding it.

The servants gently pulled me to the third and final room, the washroom. An equally large room with one wall open to the dark view of Athens, a tub taking the space of half the room.

The servants pulled at my clothing, trying to peel away the sweaty and ragged cloth, but I resisted. I wasn't so keen on stripping in front of a bunch of strangers, which seemed to upset them. While half of them tried to persuade me into complying while half of them went off to fetch water. They returned minutes later with steaming pales which were ceremoniously poured into the enormous bath, topping it off with flowers and scented oils.

"Please, sir," one asked timidly. He was young, black haired and olive skinned like the rest of his people. His face was so earnest and innocent, I felt guilty. He and his friends were ordered to take care of me, and I wasn't helping very much.

"Fine. But don't—look."

The serving boy hid a smirk and bowed his head, turning his back to me as I untied the tunic. The boy's eyes widened and he reached forward to stop me before I stepped straight into the water

"Sir, the water! It's scalding!"

* * *

It was strange having someone bathe you, but I almost got used to it. The serving boy, Damon, scrubbed the muck and salt from my hair, along with on my body. He talked as he worked, talking of his home, his family, and how he came to work for the royal family.

"My Baba had lost much money in the last harvest so I said I would take his place and work off the drachmas he owed." He scratched at a rather stubborn piece of dirt on my heel. "Working for the king isn't all bad. I get fed good. I am clothed—"

"You get to serve other people every day."

Damon smiled coyly.

"Also get to know them, pretty well, I would guess."

Damon nodded curiously.

"What about the king's personality?"

Damon glanced around before answering, "He's oblivious to his people. To the gods. He believes He is one himself as does the Vassilissa."

"The queen Kassandra? I didn't meet her did I?" I asked. Damon shook his head, moving onto the other heel.

"No, she limits her interaction with the normal world. Especially with the Principessa."

"Alexandra, right? She doesn't seem like a princess. More like a commoner, maybe. Why would the queen want to limit her interaction with Alex?"

"The Vassilissa is not her mother. The Baliseus had a different wife before, but she died in childbirth. Achas married Kassandra four years later. You will meet her at the feast tonight." I stopped asking questions, allowing Damon to finish scrubbing my skin off. After he finished, he fetched a fresh tunic and sandals.

He wrapped a small leather strip around my waist, a slick object tucked in. I took it out and held it in my hand. A slick black and silver rod with no markings or anything. Damon noticed my interest and said, "I found it in your things. I figured it was something of value if it was all you owned. I can take it—"

"No. No, it seems familiar..."

Damon nodded and waited patiently for me to leave my chambers, where from he led me through the maze of corridors and hallways to the courts chambers. A magnificently large hall with pillars on each side, statues of previous kings hauntingly watching in between. A large table with benches filled with nobles was placed in front of a precipice, on top of which stood the throne. Achas sat there, watching my approach with a dazed look of interest and suspicion. I wasn't sure what to do when I reached the king, so I knelt, my gaze settling on the floor before him.

"Basilia mon," I greeted.

"Rise," he commanded.

I rose.

"Please, sit. Enjoy the food." He didn't say it unkindly, but I felt a strain to his hospitality, like he was aware of Alexandra pulling his strings. The only two empty seats were on the king's left side, the other to the right of Kleitos. As much as I disliked the intimidating general, I didn't want to sit next to the king so I slid onto the marble pew trying to ignore the glare from the old man.

A beautiful, young woman sat on the right of the king, long black hair piled onto her pointed head. The crest of her forehead painted gold, she wore many jewels and fanciful necklaces emphasizing her obvious wealth and stature. _Kassandra_, I figured. A hooded man was leaning closely and whispering to the queen, who was giggling maniacally. The feelings curling off of him made my skin crawl. He wore dark layers of clothing, a black hood resting over his head the entire time so that his face was completely bathed in shadows.

I awkwardly piled my plate with food, attempting to be restrained, but was soon wolfing it down when I realized how hungry I was. I was so content with my food and the entertaining buzz of wine; I didn't notice the figure sliding into the seat beside me. Blonde haired and unsettlingly gold eyes, Alexandra observed me curiously.

She had bathed and changed as well, the dress she wore obviously only for royals or elite nobles who could afford it. Beads and jewels made up the straps around her neck, and the fabric revealed much of her back and of her stomach. Three bands held her curly blond locks piled in an articulate mess. She looked radiant, but I couldn't help it but feel a pang of sadness.

"You're staring," she chided.

"You remind me of someone." Her eyebrows knit together in question. "I don't remember who though."

"Your memories are still lost, then?" she asked. I shook my head. Her eyes burned into me while she thought. "Have you tried praying to Mnemosyne?"

I shook my head again, but our conversation was overheard by the queen.

"Really, Alexandra," she condescended. "The gods wouldn't take an interest in the boy even if he was their savior." She chuckled light heartedly. "Besides, why would they want to help a boy from a fishing village or wherever he comes from."

It was all Alexandra could do not to leap out her chair and strangle Kassandra. After a few slowing breaths, she steeled her eyes and spoke in a hard voice, "And why would that be?" the princapessa asked. "Why is it that the gods have been ignoring our people so?" The entire banquet hall fell silent; horrified at the direction the conversation was going. The queen noticed the tone and immediately equaled the coolness.

"What are you implying, girl? Have we not been just rulers?"

"The quality of your rule does not make the gods ignore their suffering subjects. The people begin to doubt their gods. Especially when indoctrinated into believing their king and queen are among them." Alex couldn't hide the loathing and disgust in her voice. The queen gave up all pretenses of a smile and sat there without any hint of compassion.

"Who's to say we aren't. The gods have no love for their people. It took a Titan to deliver us fire, and the Olympians punished him horrifically."

"Prometheus," I said louder than I had meant to. In fact I meant to have thought it. All eyes bore into me, my outburst unexpected and startling. But I was oblivious to their pique as a memory resurfaced. _A man in a black suit and with awful scars covering his face sat across from me on a wooden table. A woman with blazing hair and fangs sneered beside him. A Greek jar was placed hauntingly in the center, something bright and beautiful locked inside._

"Yes," Kassandra said, bringing me back to the present, "Prometheus brought us the original flame and was chained to a rock to be eaten by a vulture for all eternity." The queen stood abruptly, "the gods care more about themselves then they do of us. They have no place in our halls!"

The affect was immediate. Guests gasped and stood up, raising their heads and murmuring silent prayers. Kassandra stood tall but her reserve was crumbling fast and she rushed out of the hall, the king and their attendants at her heels. Kassandra's eerie friend watched silently, still hidden behind his cloak. His shoulders shook slightly, like he was chuckling to himself, but there was no sound. He soon departed from the halls without any indication to our being there.

Only Kleitos and Alexandra and I remained in our seats, the other guests having left for the hallowed grounds of their homes. Kleitos opened his mouth, but one silencing look from Alex quieted him. He bowed his respect to her then left himself. A few minutes passed, and Alexandra grabbed my hand and led me out of the hall.

"Where are we going?" I asked, but she ignored me and sped through the corridors and out of the palace doors. The moon was high in the sky surrounded by the thousands of constellations drawing across the night.

We ran across the well-lit and guard-filled courtyard and into the farthest corner, in which the plain Greek building I had seen earlier stood. The pillars were ordinary but well made; the torches were pre-lit and held by brackets along the inner walls; the corridors labyrinthine, intertwining with dead ends and circular hallways. At last, we emerged in the main chamber.

"My sanctuary," Alexandra said with humor.

I was mesmerized. The room was an oval, fifty feet tall at the least. The pillars were plain, but that was not what was so amazing. Twelve thrones were placed in a semicircle, each bearing a statue and symbol of their respective deity. The detail was so life-like, the gods looked like they were about to rise and call down a plague of locusts.

The god to the right of the center had a sensation that drew me to him. I walked in front of him and ran my hand over the symbol on the throne: a three pronged spear. "Poseidon, lord of the seas," Alex whispered behind me.

It made me sad. Standing there in the chamber, in front of Poseidon's honorary throne, and not knowing who I was. I rubbed my eyes, clearing them of any unshed tears and asked, "Your sanctuary?" I turned to see Alex inspecting Poseidon's statue.

"I am here more often than not. I am in training to be the high priestess of the order."

"Really?"

"I have trained since I was three. Since I am a girl," Alex scowled, "I have no claim to the throne. No power." She wandered to the center of the room, to the circle. "Not that I want it of course, but I would rather rule than see one of Kassandra's pawnish brats to be Basileus. Percy, come here," she said, indicating a circle in the center of the gods' council, fit for two people standing side by side.

"Why?"

She sighed impatiently, "Because I want to try something. Now, get over here. And repeat after me when I say so."

I gave her a cocky smile and swaggered into the middle of the room. She pointed to the circle and told me to sit with my legs crossed. She disappeared for a few minutes only to return with a bejeweled goblet with dark crimson liquid. She knelt before me, her hands wrapped around the goblet, and began to chant. Quietly at first, but soon her voice echoed around the chamber. Her voice seemed to resonate through the stone pillars and into the statues. I understood she was calling on the gods for their guidance, and in time she offered me the goblet.

"Say, _I accept_."

I repeated the words. _I really hope it's not blood_, I thought before taking a large gulp. The wine was spiced and chalk full of a drug. My eyes immediately, as soon as the liquid burned down my throat, rolled back into my head, and my head landing on a soft pillow.

* * *

When I woke, I was still in the chamber, but I was alone. I figured the drugs were still taking its toll on my vision because of a dull fog that was rolling throughout the room, making everything look off and trancelike. The stone statues were still sitting regally, glaring fiercely down on me, the pillars soaring like guards. I was starting to feel uneasy like someone was watching me.

I turned in a circle and called, "Alex? Alex, I'm not in the mood this!"

"The boy speaks. How rude."

I spun, terrified, intent on finding the voice. I could have sworn I was alone before, but then I had had the feeling someone was watching me. No one was there. Save for myself and the statues, I was alone staring at twelve great statues.

"Hello?" I doubted it but added, "Alex?"

"No," replied a second voice, younger and softer than the first.

My jaw fell open out of surprise, and I jumped back, falling down to the ground, when one of the statues stretched her arms above her head and pushed out of her chair. The movement caused the stone to grind and crack, but she remained intact. The bringer of the seasons wore a tunic like the others, only hers had wheat woven into it along with into her crown.

"Stop staring, boy. It's not a very attractive look I'm afraid," stated the second voice, another of the statues as the others began to move. This goddess wore a very revealing tunic, low in the front and showing almost all of her stomach as it wrapped around. Although, if I remembered correctly, she was not often depicted with clothing in her other statues. I stopped gaping and snapped my mouth shut.

"You're real," I averred idiotically.

Aphrodite the Golden giggled amusedly. The conquering god of the spear and wasn't as amused.

"Who's this rogue?" he sneered.

"Calm yourself, Ares." Zeus demanded. He stood in front of me, storms brewing in his stone eyes. "Give your name, boy."

"Percy—Jackson—my lord?"

"Why is it that Alexandra sent you here? It seems you are no more than a simpleton who can barely remember his own name," said a woman dressed in fish scaled armor and a feathered helm. _Athena Nike_.

"I don't remember."

She raised her eyebrows as if I had proven a point.

"I mean I don't remember anything about my life," I hastened to clarify, "they found me off the coast of Athens without a clue of who I was or where I'm from." I licked my dry lips. "I think she thought you could help me."

The gods spoke quickly, their moves moving and making sounds, but I couldn't comprehend the words. It was like I ceased to exist in the world. Finally, Owl-Eyed Athena spoke again, "for once Alexandra was wrong. We cannot help you."

"What? Why not?"

"There is nothing to help," she dismissed with a wave of her hand.

"Kassandra is right." The air chilled, the gods attention focused on me, but I didn't care. A flicker of recognition ran through me, like I was used to provoking higher beings. "You only care about yourselves! I can't remember anything more than a day ago like I didn't exist, and you say there's nothing to help?"

"Be careful with your words, Percy Jackson. Simple memory loss or incapability to hold memories is no concern of the gods."

"No, of course it isn't."

Athena's eyes burned red, and I felt an excruciating pain moving through my veins. I cried out and collapsed to the ground. The pain, though it was quick, resurfaced memories of a black lake and an army of skeletons. I lay there panting after Athena's power had withdrawn. I gathered up the strength and sat up, death glaring the wisdom goddess.

"Send him back to the mortal world. I don't want to look at him any longer," stated Zeus.

I glanced helplessly at the Olympians, my last chance at remembrance. Athena glanced away nonchalantly, as did half of the others, including Poseidon. The only one who looked overly riled about sending me away was Aphrodite, who was watching me with more intent than I liked.

"Wait."

A voice commanded from the entrance of the chamber. A woman with long brown hair speckled with grey floated past me, throwing one interested glance at me. Her face must have once been extremely beautiful, but now it was withered by time and unforgiving memories. Even as she walked, the golden tunic did not flow, it merely fell there like a curtain of mist.

"Mnemosyne, what are you doing here? We did not summon you," glared Zeus. He was unnerved by the woman and seemingly disliked the idea of her coming.

"I came on my own accord, Zeus, Guardian of the City." Mnemosyne turned back to me and drew a finger across my jaw. I stood stock still, not knowing what to do. "You don't know who this boy is, do you?"

"Enlighten us," the thunder god growled.

"Perseus Jackson."

"He is of no significance to me," stated Demeter.

"Nor me," said Artemis. Apollo, Hera, Hermes, Ares, Dionysus, and Hephaestus chorused their votes as well. Poseidon agreed, which for some reason made my heart pang and eyes sting.

"He's handsome," Aphrodite arbitrarily added.

"Tell us who he is, Mnemosyne, or be gone," demanded Zeus. Mnemosyne gave him a loathing smile.

"Son of the Sea."

Outraged and confused, the gods called out.

"He is no son of mine, titan," claimed Poseidon, Savoir of Sailors.

Mnemosyne ignored the chorus of gods and focused on me. She walked a circle around me, her white eyes boring into my soul. The goddess whispered, "Do you wish to remember, little hero?"

"Of course."

"It may not be pretty. Pain, suffering. It would be better to forget and live your life in ignorance. People will die either way. It is your choice as to how many."

"If I chose to remember?"

The goddess debated me. "If you choose to remember, less will die—"

"Then I choose to remember."

"Do not be so hasty," she chastised. "There is a price if you choose to remember."

"What price?"

"I will not say." She watched me silently.

"You're asking me to agree to a price I don't even know," I demanded.

"I will say once you've sworn on the River Styx"

"And it's the only way for me to remember who I am," I asked angrily.

The goddess nodded.

"I swear on the River Styx."

Thunder rolled, the earth shook, and the gods looked on me with new found respect... and fear. Mnemosyne brought up her hand, an identical goblet to the one Alexandra had used drawn out of her cloaks. The Golden-Robed goddess held it out to me.

"Drink."

I sniffed the cherry liquid and swallowed my qualms. I gulped it down and instantly, my head burst, the cup dropped out of my limp grasp. My hands found their way to my throat, and I felt as if my jugular was boiling with fire. The pain moved to behind my eyes, and pictures flashed before me.

Images that were familiar but were just out of arm's reach.

_There was a beach, decrepit buildings that must have been over fifty years old stood in between the dunes. A woman with hazel brown hair held hands with a man cloaked in secrecy. They held each other's hands lovingly yet sadly. He was explaining something to her, something that was unbelievable miserable. As the man spoke, the woman rubbed her stomach, like she was with child._

_The image changed to show a girl with bright grey eyes and lusciously golden hair that was matted with dirt. She was limping along in the dark, her ankle wrapped in a white fabric, and her eyes shown with fear. In her hand, she grasped a glowing blade, in the other was someone's hand; although, the owner was too dark to see._

_The ground fell away only to be rebuilt as stone. I was standing next to a boy, his face becoming more like stone and less child-like as I spoke, explaining the death of someone important. The shaggy black hair fell into the boy's face, tears streaking his innocent face. When he looked back at my face, his eyes were filled with pure hatred. The ground erupted pulling a skeleton warrior and myself down into hell._

_The girl from the first vision, me, and another boy stood over a body. Sandy hair covered in blood, he was still breathing, but slowly. He was begging me for the knife, the knife that I held taught. In a flash of anger, the sky blue eyes screamed with agony and fury shifting to a burning gold before turning back. I whispered I was sorry before making the decision to give him the knife, and the boy drove it into his side, the world exploding in a flash of light before falling into shadows._

_A girl with dark skin and curly hair sticking out of the sides of her helmet drove her cavalier sword into the side of a dirt tunnel, grinning with victory as the roof collapsed onto two reptilian creatures before retreating deeper into the burrow. There she joined me, an old woman, and another boy, an archer wearing the same ethnic armor. He grinned when he saw the female guard but soon called out a warning as the creatures reemerged. We ran towards an old city just beyond a rushing river. The girl dove into the water while the old woman talked to me of destinies. _A speech that sounded similar to the one Mnemosyne had given me. _In the end, I chose to swim across the river. We were safely across when the archer was brought into the sky. I knew the newly arrived reinforcements could not do anything without hurting the archer, so I thrust out my hands, water cascading down on me like a spirit stealing my sole._

_A boy with dark curls paced the deck of a large trireme. He was fidgeting with things in his pockets, occasionally glancing over the ledge at the land below. His eyes, an ember brown, burned with a deep fire and he lunged for the battlements secured on deck. He grinned manically before burning the city below. The flames burned into the ship, crawling up my body like acid water._

_The water was eroding my strength, a boy with blond hair sinking below the surface. A girl with choppy braids called to me and the other. We tried to tread, but old, ragged hands pulled us down. They held no happiness, the eyes of the women, like they were torn from the minds of the living. The water itself was poison, its shape shifting into a woman's face._

_The face of someone asleep, trying to wake up. The face shifted, turned endlessly as she commanded the deaths of two sacrifices. Their blood to be poured into the restless earth. Vengeance, it called._

The chamber and visions began to merge until I could discern from reality and not. A face with golden amber eyes smiled down on me, a hand offering to pull me to my feet. I accepted it; although, I could not stand straight once I was up. Alex opened and closed her mouth, the sounds incomprehensible to my drugged mind.

"So?" the priestess asked expectantly.

The fogginess was still clearing, but I could discern my thoughts from jumbled messes. "Did you know that was going to happen?" I yelled, infuriated.

"Yes."

"What was that stuff?" I asked, still feeling the burning from the potion.

"Nectar and wine."

I stared at her incomprehensibly, trying not to compare her golden irises to the dying boy's. I was still trying to understand what those visions were, the seven children driven through countless battles. All of them had known, there was no doubt, but I had no idea who they were in relation to me.

"Percy? What happened?"

"I saw things. I—don't understand what it was, but—I know."

Alex grinned delightedly. But I didn't feel her joy.

A little voice had broken through the barriers of my mind, and it was not mine: _the child of Areti Palas must die. That is my price._

**COMMENT!**

**i edited it, so that's why there is no new chapter, but a new one will be coming soon. Just started junior year :/**


	3. The Golden Library

"Pais. Pais, you must wake up." The voice's owner was nudging my shoulder gently. I cracked my eyes open, the lids stuck painfully together. A kind old face, weathered and crinkled, was bent in front of me. Shock white hair was closely cropped to the man's wrinkled face, his grey eyes large and wise. He wore a white tunic with a gold trim embroidering the ends.

I rubbed my eyes, blinking the sunlight from them before taking in my surroundings. The room became clearer as my eyes adjusted to the sudden light. It was large, mainly white with golden railings and decorations. Pillars outlined the circular walls; shelves built into the marble, and on them books glowed in the morning sun. I realized I must have fallen asleep on the fir table, maps and scrolls sprawled across the glossed surface.

"Who're you?" I asked dully. My voice was raw and dry, having most likely been open all night. The old man smiled, a glint of humor hidden behind it.

"I am Zoticus, pais, the head of this humble house," he said lightly, holding a smile on his elderly face. He knelt before me, resting a hand on the table.

"What is your name, pais?"

"Annabeth," I said.

"Annabeth? What an unusual name. Beautiful and fitting for one as fair as yourself. Where are your parents, little Annabeth?"

I thought before answering. Waking up in a strange place, it may not be a good idea to tell the truth—or more like my moderation of the truth—and this man seems old, at least unlike the scholars back home. "My mother—is dead, and my father couldn't take care of me," I mumbled decidedly. Zoticus nodded, frowning, and hesitantly rested his hand on my shoulder.

Distantly, I noticed I wore a tunic. It was plain and ordinary, white with a red rope, the fabric reaching down to my knees. A colorful collar-dress weighed heavily on around my neck.

"I—I don't understand. I was in my room. At home. Where am I?"

Zoticus watched me, anxiety clearly written on his face. "I'm not sure what you mean, pais. You have come here day after day. Last night, you fell asleep and stayed all night. And now today, I woke you up." He paused and waited to continue. "You are in the Royal Library."

The earth shifted beneath me, the blood pounding into my head. "The Library of Alexandria?"

Zoticus nodded anxiously, watching to see if I were faint in the head. "We are in the Royal Library of Alexandria, yes. Are you alright, pais? Should I send for an _iatros_?"

"I—I'm fine. Just—had a bit of a mental lapse," I said, standing abruptly, the chair scratching against the stone floor. "Sorry, I need—" I didn't know how to explain what I needed and never finished my sentence. I ran from the library, the beautiful architecture meaning nothing to me. Other scholars stared at me as I passed, giving me disapproving looks, but I ignored them.

My main focus was on the ancient buildings that loomed over me. The distinct smell of ancient society and the streets hit me like a crashing wave. Egyptian styled clay houses and shops lined the busy streets. Passersby, women carrying water jugs on their head, and marketers looked at me as if I were mad.

"Oh, gods," I gasped. My breath came in gulps. I bent over, hugging my stomach, trying to get control of myself. It was exactly as I had pictured it, only that it wasn't my imagination. I was in Ancient Alexandria.

I stayed there for a few minutes, dulling listening to the on goings of the street. Zoticus, materialized beside me, laying a supportive hand on my shoulder, but I didn't feel it. He uttered soothing words to me, but with no response, he gently tugged me back towards the library.

* * *

Zoticus pressed the steaming cup into my hands. The light brown liquid bitter and strong. I looked around the room listlessly, the scholar's chamber bland and detached: a bed in the corner; a table with a quill and papyrus on the surface; and some scrolls.

"Tell me who you are, pais?"

"I already told you my name is Annabeth."

"You may have given me a name, but that says nothing about your character. A blind man would even see that you are lost." Zoticus sat down in the chair, me on the bed. He picked up a scroll and began to fiddle with it between his fingers. "What about your home?"

"My home?" I asked, startled out of my thoughts.

"Yes, your home. When I woke you, one of your first statements was that of your home."

I set my empty tea cup onto the stone floor lethargically. I tried to act slowly and hide the speed at which my mind was whirling. _Should I trust him? He seems like a harmless grandfather, but one mistake could cost my life. I definitely cannot tell him about the time difference._

"I'm from Greece. An insignificant village outside of Athens."

_It may have been safer to go with somewhere in Egypt, but I knew much more about Greece and not enough about specific Egyptian time. Also with blonde hair, I didn't exactly fit in with the classical Middle-Eastern look_.

"No village is insignificant. Zeus-Amun sees all equally." He gave me a kind smile, "Continue."

"I—my m—father sent me here—because I—priests believed I had a gift. Of Wisdom."

Zoticus gave me a look as if he didn't believe me, but I gave him a nonchalant shrug. More and more questions went through my mind as I thought about what happened. I had been at my house in San Francisco and had told Dad 'night. I fell asleep reading a book and fallen—"the book!" I exclaimed.

Zoticus jumped in surprise. I didn't know how long I had been thinking, but it had apparently been long enough for him to think I was done talking.

"What book?"

_I had been reading about the Royal Library! Mother had given me a lost book from the Library of Alexandria and I hadn't put it down since._ Out-loud, I said, "I had meant to—transcribe a book about the history of heroes. Maybe something about Time as well. Do you know of any books I could—transliterate?"

Zoticus pursed his lips, "I do not know if you are able, pais. You are a girl, and the brothers do not always agree with females meddling in male affairs. The fact that you were here at all, and reading was a great allowance."

I tried not to get angry, or at least let it show, because I knew that was the thinking of the ancient world, but it was hard. "Oh, well," I forced out. "Perhaps, if you are not busy, could show me around Alexandria, _authentes_?"

"I would be happy to show you around, my lost girl." He rose from his seat, setting the papyrus on the table, and then reaching his hand out to me. I gave him a small smile and took his hand.

* * *

Outside a clay building, under an awning, a girl with long brown, curly hair was mending and setting jewels into a gold necklace. Her dark skin seemed out of place in the Egyptian world, but her mentor hovered and observed with a wistful glance. _A prodigy most likely._

"And that is the local goldsmiths. They are probably the best in the port. And that—" Zoticus pointed to a courtyard with guards in golden plates stood frozen at each corner, "—is the Palace of the Gods. Really it's a glorified market place."

"Then how'd it get its name?"

"Well, once a month priests sacrifice a goat to the various gods of the sea."

I looked at the courtyard with renewed interest. I had never seen an ancient sacrifice before. I commented on such, however, revising it into the present tense. "When is the next sacrifice?"

When Zoticus didn't answer, I turned back to him. His face was scrunched with ire and he seemed bothered. He was scrutinizing a man in the center of the square by the podium encrusted with dedications to the gods. He wore Greek clothes but with much more cloaks than normal men. His head was covered with a black cowl, and he was in deep conversation with someone who looked like Zoticus' equal.

"Stay here, pais." Zoticus walked through the mass of people and met with the mystery man and scholar.

"Very likely," I mumbled as I pushed my way near the center. I kept far enough away that Zoticus didn't notice my approach, but I could still hear.

"—doing here?" Zoticus asked. I could hear the hidden steel in his voice.

"Am I not allowed to see the sights of your beautiful city, dear friend?" the cloaked man replied. His voice was silky and sly, like water running over stones in a creek bed.

"You agreed never to return."

"No. I agreed never to return to Cairo. This is Alexandria, old man."

"Do not—"

"Enough talk of the unimportant, Zoticus. I am not interested in your petty complaints."

"What are you doing here, Achiereus?" Zoticus demanded furiously. "The last time I saw you was after the library of Cairo was destroyed."

"I am here for the same reasons as before. But that is no business of yours, Scholar."

"Your practices are not welcome here, nor any other place on the god's Land. The Sea, the Sky, and the Earth are not your domain, though you may believe so."

"I grow tired of your squabbles, Zotticus. Leave my affairs as my own. Instead, why do you not introduce me to your little shadow?"

Zoticus spun around, searching the sea of people. His gaze fell on me, hiding behind a bunch of merchants. His expression twisted from anger to a sort of anxiety. His eyes fleetingly flew to the man he had been talking with before pleading with me to walk away. The cloaked man waved with his hand for me to come and I walked up to them boldly.

"I told you to wait, pais," Zoticus chided lightly, but I could hear the angst and turmoil straining his voice. "Go and wait for me by the bar. Here," he tried to push a gold coin into my hand, but the shrouded man reproached the scholar.

"Now, now, old man. I want to meet this Greek Beauty."

My mouth gaped open at his statement. I had never been associated with Greece; my blond hair was always a Californian girl stereotype. _But California won't be founded for another two thousand years_.

"Annabeth, this is Donoban of Athens," Zoticus introduced. The cowl inched forward as the man beneath inclined his head. It was a stiff movement, like he was not used to doing anything in a respectful manner. I bobbed my head as well as curtsied. I didn't want to annoy Zoticus or his friends any more than I already had.

"Tell me, Annabeth: have we met before? You seem familiar in looks as well as spirit."

"No, we have not—um— sir?"

"Such certainty. How is it you are so certain?" the Greek inquired. Donoban seemed set on discovering who I was. Maybe he recognized me from the statues of my mother, because I was fairly certain I had never me the creepy man before. "From which city do you hail? Have you been to Athens?"

Zoticus grew wearied after each question. I didn't—well, I understood—but didn't know why he was adamantly against the hooded figure. As far as I could tell, Donoban was creepy but not evil.

"A village called San Fransisco. And no, I've never been to Athens." _Not recently at least._

But Donoban still had more questions about who I was. I was starting to worry about the questions. _What if I slipped up? What if he's actually a monster?_ "How is it you came to Alexandria?"

"She doesn't know. Or remember. Donaban, truly, we must be going. Much to see before dark." Zoticus chuckled heartily, but forced. The old man rested an arm on my shoulder and tried to steer me away. We had gotten a few paces away before I heard Donoban say in a contemplative voice, "just like the fisher's boy."

_It had to be nothing. There's no way... Just a coincidence_. I stopped short and turned to the hooded man. "What did you say?"

"What?" Donoban waved away the question. "Oh, nothing. Just an occurrence at the palace of Athens."

"Did you say the same as the _fisher's_ boy?" I could swear I saw the twinkle of teeth as he smiled crookedly. "Did someone else arrive without memory of how they got there?"

"Not only of how he got there but who he is. He can barely claim a name let alone his identity. A black haired boy was rescued by the royal fleet. They brought him to the palace because the princess believed him a godsend."

"And his name?"

"Perseus."

* * *

Zoticus watched me worriedly. Even though he had known me only for a day, he seemed to genuinely care for me. But I was too distracted to notice his concern.

_Percy. Percy had come back as well. Not only that, he didn't have a clue as to who he was. Maybe he and I aren't the only ones to go back. We couldn't be _that_ unlucky._

I made a derisive snort, which startled Zoticus, but I kept running through my internal monologue. _If I had gone back here, to Alexandria, and Percy to Athens, then there had to be other demigods in those cities right? What unusual people did I see today that didn't exactly register?_

Another snort was curtailed before I could make another startling noise. _I'm in ancient Alexandria and I was wondering what was strange. Out of all the people I saw, who was the most—_

"Hazel!"

My exclamation startled Zoticus off of the perch he had been writing from. I guiltily helped him back onto the wooden chair and began pacing the room. _I can't believe I hadn't recognized her!_

"What is wrong, pais?" Zoticus asked fatherly, albeit with much curiousity.

"Nothing's wrong— well, many things are wrong, but this—her—is good." I stopped pacing. "Zoticus, when does the goldsmith close?"

"At dark, as well as everything else. Firelight is too dangerous to work by."

I ran to the window and glanced at the horizon. The sun was almost down. "I'd say ten minutes at most." I went to leave, but Zoticus stood frantically.

"You cannot leave now! Night has almost arrived."

"I'll be fine, but I _have_ to find the girl at the gold shop. Hazel. I know her." My grey eyes pleaded with the old man's, begging him to understand. Finally, he nodded. I wasted no time in walking through the library. Scholars and priests yelled angrily at me, but I shoved aside any pedestrian in my way.

My side stitched painfully by the time I reached the market place, the sun having long set. The problem was I didn't remember which building it was and that the clay houses were identical. And closed.

"I'm too late." For the first time since I arrived back in time, I felt tears pricking at my eyes.

There was a chance she'd be there tomorrow, but I've no idea if she even worked there or if she was doing it for a one day's pay. _Or if it was even her._

"A—Annabeth?" A timid voice came from behind me. I spun and came face to face with two golden hazel eyes. The soft brown-skinned girl flashed white teeth when she realized I wasn't a hallucination. "It is you!" She cried and tackled me in a hug.

"When I saw you in the goldsmiths, I didn't— I thought..." I stuttered.

"Me too. I thought I was the only one to go back in time."

"What happened to you? I mean the last thing I remember is reading a book and falling asleep then waking up in the Library of Alexandria."

"I was feeding Arion and decided to sleep in the stables. When I woke up, Arion was gone along with New Rome. I figured I was having another black out but when people started yelling at me and I noticed this was Egypt, I started freaking out. Eventually, I got a job as an apprentice cause I had no way of getting food or room. I've been here for a week. I think."

I grasped her hands in mine. "This is really important. Have you seen _any_ other demigods or even someone who _looks_ like a half-blood?"

Hazel shook her head. "You're the first person I thought I recognized. Do you think it's just us?"

"No. Percy is here too. He's in Athens and safe as far as I can tell."

Hazel gave me a knowing smile. "Since when has Percy ever stayed out of trouble?"

After going over every detail, I convinced Hazel to follow me back to Zoticus's chambers, hoping the old scholar wouldn't mind an extra guest. We talked quietly and watched for any person who might wish us harm, but the streets were almost completely empty.

But we were oblivious to the man hiding in shadows.

**Pais—Child**

**Iatros—Doctor**

**authentes—basically an equivalent to sir/master**

**Also I know the times are all mixed up, but whatever. It's based on myths**

**The reason for some capital letters on some words is for the Greek personifications. Like Time was represented by Cronus… The Moon is Artemis**

**COMMENT!**

**the new chapter should be up soon. **


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